CHAPTER VI
66The substance of this paper was preached as a sermon at the Chapel Royal, St. James's, London, on March 2, 1884.Acts 17:26."ONE BLOOD."

THIS is a very short and simple text, and even a child knows the
meaning of its words. But simple as it is, it supplies food for
much thought, and it forms part of a speech delivered by a great
man on a great occasion.

The speaker is the Apostle of the Gentiles, St. Paul. The hearers
are the cultivated men of Athens, and specially the Epicurean and
Stoic philosophers. The place is Mars' Hill at Athens, in full view
of religious buildings and statues, of which even the shattered
remains are a marvel of art at this day. Never perhaps were such a
place, such a man, and such an audience brought together! It was a
strange scene. And how did St. Paul use the occasion? What did this
Jewish stranger, this member of a despised nation, coming from an
obscure corner of Asia, this little man whose "bodily presence was
weak," and very unlike the ideal figure in one of Raphael's
cartoons, what does he say to these intellectual Greeks?

He tells them boldly the unity of the true God. There is only one
God, the maker of heaven and earth, and not many deities, as his
hearers seem to think, a God who needed no temples made with hands,
and was not to be represented by images made of wood or metal or
stone.

Standing in front of the stately Parthenon and the splendid statue
of Minerva, he sets before his refined hearers the ignorance with
which they worshipped, the folly of idolatry, the coming judgment
of all mankind, the certainty of a resurrection, and the absolute
need of repentance. And not least, he tells the proud men of Athens
that they must not flatter themselves that they were superior
beings, as they vainly supposed, made of finer clay, and needing
less than other races of men. No! he declares that "God has made of
one blood all nations." There is no difference. The nature, the
needs, the obligation to God of all human beings on the globe are
one and the same.

I shall stick to that expression "one blood," and confine myself
entirely to it. I see in it three great points,--

1. A point of fact;

2. A point of doctrine;

3. A point of duty.

Let me try to unfold them.

I. In the first place comes the point of fact. We are all made "of
one blood." Then the Bible account of the origin of man is true.
The Book of Genesis is right. The whole family of mankind, with all
its thousand millions, has descended from one pair--from Adam and
Eve.

This is a humbling fact, no doubt; but it is true. Kings and their
subjects, rich and poor, learned and unlearned, prince and pauper,
the educated Englishman and the untutored negro, the fashionable
lady at the West End of London and the North American squaw,--all,
all might trace their pedigree, if they could trace it through
sixty centuries, to one man and one woman. No doubt in the vast
period of six thousand years immense varieties of races have
gradually been developed. Hot climates and cold climates have
affected the colour and physical peculiarities of nations.
Civilization and culture have produced their effect on the habits,
demeanour, and mental attainments of the inhabitants of different
parts of the globe. Some of Adam's children in the lapse of time
have been greatly degraded, and some have been raised and improved.
But the great fact remains the same. The story written by Moses is
true. All the dwellers in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America
originally sprang from Adam and Eve. We were all "made of one
blood."

Now why do I dwell on all this? I do it because I wish to impress
on the minds of my readers the plenary inspiration and divine
authority of the Book of Genesis. I want you to hold fast the old
teaching about the origin of man, and to refuse steadily to let it
go.

I need hardly remind you that you live in a day of abounding
scepticism and unbelief. Clever writers and lecturers are
continually pouring contempt on the Old Testament Scriptures, and
especially on the Book of Genesis. The contents of that venerable
document, we are frequently told, are not to be read as real
historical facts, but as fictions and fables. We are not to suppose
that Adam and Eve were the only man and woman originally created,
and that all mankind sprang from one pair. We are rather to believe
that different races of human beings have been called into
existence in different parts of the globe, at different times,
without any relationship to one another. In short, we are coolly
informed that the narratives in the first half of Genesis are only
pleasing Oriental romances, and are not realities at all! Now, when
you hear such talk as this, I charge you not to be moved or shaken
for a moment. Stand fast in the old paths of the faith, and
especially about the origin of man. There is abundant evidence that
Moses is right, and those who impugn his veracity and credibility
are wrong. We are all descended from one fallen father. We are "all
of one blood."

It would be easy to show, if the limits of this paper permitted,
that the oldest traditions of nations all over the globe confirm
the account given by Moses in the most striking manner. Geikie, in
his Hours with the Bible, has briefly shown that the story of the
first pair, the serpent, the fall, the flood, and the ark are found
cropping up in one form or another in almost every part of the
habitable world. But the strongest proof of our common origin is to
be found in the painful uniformity of man's moral nature, whatever
be the colour of his skin. Go where you will on the globe, and
observe what men and women are everywhere. Go to the heart of
Africa or China, or to the remotest island of the Pacific Ocean,
and mark the result of your investigations. I boldly assert that
everywhere, and in every climate, you will find the moral nature of
the human race exactly the same. Everywhere you will find men and
women are naturally wicked, corrupt, selfish, proud, lazy,
deceitful, godless,-- servants of lusts and passions. And I contend
that nothing can reasonably account for this but the first three
chapters of Genesis. We are what we are morally, because we have
sprung from one parent, and partake of his nature. We are all
descendants of one fallen Adam, and in Adam we all died. Moses is
right. We are all of" one blood."

After all, if doubt remains in any man's mind, and he cannot quite
believe the narratives of Genesis, I ask him to remember what a
deadly blow his unbelief strikes at the authority of the New
Testament. It is easy work to point out difficulties in the first
book of the Bible; but it is not easy to explain away the repeated
endorsement which Genesis receives from Christ and the Apostles.
There is no getting over the broad fact that creation, the serpent,
the fall, Cain and Abel, Enoch, Noah, the flood, the ark, Abraham,
Lot, Sodom and Gomorrah, Isaac, Jacob, Esau, are all mentioned in
the New Testament as historical things or historical persons. What
shall we say to this fact? Were Christ and the Apostles deceived
and ignorant? The idea is absurd. Did they dishonestly accommodate
themselves to the popular views of their hearers, in order to
procure favour with them, knowing all the time that the things and
persons they spoke of were fictitious, and not historical at all?
The very idea is wicked and profane. We are shut up to one
conclusion, and I see no alternative. If you give up the Old
Testament, you must give up the New also. There is no
standing-ground between disbelief of the supernatural narratives of
Genesis and disbelief of the gospel. If you cannot believe Moses,
you ought not to trust Christ and the Apostles, who certainly did
believe him. Are you really wiser than the Lord Jesus Christ or St.
Paul? Do you know better than they? Cast such notions behind your
back. Stand firm on the old foundation, and be not carried away by
modern theories. And as a great cornerstone, place beneath your
feet the fact of our text, the common origin of all mankind. "We
are all made of one blood."

II. From the point of fact in our text I now pass on to the point
of doctrine. Are we all of "one blood "? Then we all need one and
the same remedy for the great family disease of our souls. The
disease I speak of is sin. We inherit it from our parents, and it
is a part of our nature. We are born with it, whether gentle or
simple, learned or unlearned, rich or poor, as children of fallen
Adam, with his blood in our veins. It is a disease which grows with
our growth and strengthens with our strength, and unless cured
before we die, will be the death of our souls.

Now, what is the only remedy for this terrible spiritual disease?
What will cleanse us from the guilt of sin? What will bring health
and peace to our poor dead hearts, and enable us to walk with God
while we live, and dwell with God when we die? To these questions I
give a short but unhesitating reply. For the one universal
soul-disease of all Adam's children there is only one remedy. That
remedy is "the precious blood of Christ." To the blood of Adam we
owe the beginning of our deadly spiritual ailment. To the blood of
Christ alone must we all look for a cure.

When I speak of the "blood of Christ," my readers must distinctly
understand that I do not mean the literal material blood which
flowed from His hands and feet and side as He hung on the cross.
That blood, I doubt not, stained the fingers of the soldiers who
nailed our Lord to the tree; but there is not the slightest proof
that it did any good to their souls. If that blood were really in
the Communion cup at the Lord's Supper, as some profanely tell us,
and we touched it with our lips, such mere corporeal touch would
avail us nothing. Oh no! When I speak of the "blood" of Christ as
the cure for the deadly ailment which we all inherit from the blood
of Adam, I mean the life-blood which Christ shed, and the
redemption which Christ obtained for sinners when He died for them
on Calvary,--the salvation which He procured for us by His
vicarious sacrifice,--the deliverance from the guilt and power and
consequences of sin, which He purchased when He suffered as our
Substitute. This and this only is what I mean when I speak of
"Christ's blood" as the one medicine needed by all Adam's children.
The thing that we all need to save us from eternal death is not
merely Christ's incarnation and life, but Christ's death. The
atoning "blood" which Christ shed when He died, is the grand secret
of salvation. It is the blood of the second Adam suffering in our
stead, which alone can give life or health and peace to all who
have the first Adam's blood in their veins.

I can find no words to express my deep sense of the importance of
maintaining in our Church the true doctrine of the blood of Christ.
One plague of our age is the widespread dislike to what men are
pleased to call dogmatic theology. In the place of it, the idol of
the day is a kind of jelly-fish Christianity,--a Christianity
without bone, or muscle, or sinew, without any distinct teaching
about the atonement or the work of the Spirit, or justification, or
the way of peace with God,--a vague, foggy, misty Christianity, of
which the only watchwords seem to be, "You must be earnest, and
real, and true, and brave, and zealous, and liberal, and kind. You
must condemn no man's doctrinal views. You must consider everybody
is right, and nobody is wrong." And this Creedless kind of
religion, we are actually told, is to give us peace of conscience!
And not to be satisfied with it in a sorrowful, dying world, is a
proof that you are very narrow-minded! Satisfied, indeed! Such a
religion might possibly do for unfallen angels. But to tell sinful,
dying men and women, with the blood of our father Adam in their
veins, to be satisfied with it, is an insult to common sense, and a
mockery of our distress. We need something far better than this. We
need the blood of Christ.

What saith the Scripture about "that blood"? Let me try to put my
readers in remembrance. Do we want to be clean and guiltless now in
the sight of God? It is written that "the blood of Jesus Christ
cleanseth from all sin; "--that "it justifies;" that "it makes us
nigh to God; " that "through it there is redemption, even the
forgiveness of sin;" that it "purges the conscience;" that
"it makes peace between God and man;"--that it gives "boldness to
enter into the holiest." Yes! it is expressly written of the saints
in glory, that "they had washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb," and that they had "overcome their souls'
enemies by the blood of the Lamb" (1 John 1:7; Col. 1:20; Heb.
10:19; Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:14; Eph. 2:13; Rom. 5:9; Rev. 7:14). Why,
in the name of common sense, if the Bible is our guide to heaven,
why are we to refuse the teaching of the Bible about Christ's
blood, and turn to other remedies for the great common soul-disease
of mankind? If, besides this, the sacrifices of the Old Testament
did not point to the sacrifice of Christ's death on the cross, they
were useless, unmeaning forms, and the outer courts of tabernacle
and temple were little better than shambles. But if, as I firmly
believe, they were meant to lead the minds of Jews to the better
sacrifice of the true Lamb of God, they afford unanswerable
confirmation of the position which I maintain this day. That
position is, that the one "blood of Christ" is the spiritual
medicine for all who have the "one blood of Adam" in their
veins.

Does any reader of this paper want to do good in the world? I hope
that many do. He is a poor style of Christian who does not wish to
leave the world better, when he leaves it, than it was when he
entered it. Take the advice I give you this day. Beware of being
content with half-measures and inadequate remedies for the great
spiritual disease of mankind. You will only labour in vain if you
do not show men the blood of the Lamb. Like the fabled Sisyphus,
however much you strive, you will find the stone ever rolling back
upon you. Education, teetotalism, cleaner dwellings, popular
concerts, blue ribbon leagues, white cross armies, penny readings,
museums, all are very well in their way; but they only touch the
surface of man's disease: they do not go to the root. They cast out
the devil for a little season; but they do not fill his place, and
prevent him coming back again. Nothing will do that but the story
of the cross applied to the conscience by the Holy Ghost, and
received and accepted by faith. Yes! it is the blood of Christ, not
His example only, or His beautiful moral teaching, but His
vicarious sacrifice that meets the wants of the soul. No wonder
that St. Peter calls it "precious." Precious it has been found by
the heathen abroad, and by the peer and the peasant at home.
Precious it was found on a death-bed by the mighty theologian
Bengel, by the unwearied labourer John Wesley, by the late
Archbishop Longley, and Bishop Hamilton in our own days. May it
ever be precious in our eyes! If we want to do good, we must make
much of the blood of Christ. There is only one fountain that can
cleanse any one's sin. That fountain is the blood of the Lamb.

III. The third and last point which arises out of our text is a
point of duty. Are we all of "one blood "? Then we ought to live as
if we were. We ought to behave as members of one great family. We
ought to "love as brethren." We ought to put away from us anger,
wrath, malice, quarrelling, as specially hateful in the sight of
God. We ought to cultivate kindness and charity towards all men.
The dark-skinned African negro, the dirtiest dweller in some vile
slum of London, has a claim upon our attention. He is a relative
and a brother, whether we like to believe it or not. Like
ourselves, he is a descendant of Adam and Eve, and inherits a
fallen nature and a never-dying soul.

Now what are we Christians doing to prove that we believe and
realize all this? What are we doing for our brethren? I trust we do
not forget that it was wicked Cain who asked that awful question,
"Am I my brother's keeper?" (Gen. 4:9).

What are we doing for the heathen abroad? That is a grave question,
and one which I have no room to consider fully. I only remark that
we do far less than we ought to do. The nation whose proud boast it
is that her flag is to be seen in every port on the globe, gives
less to the cause of foreign missions than the cost of a single
first-class ironclad man-of-war.

But what are we doing for the masses at home? That is a far graver
question, and one which imperiously demands a reply. The heathen
are out of sight and out of mind. The English masses are hard by
our own doors, and their condition is a problem which politicians
and philanthropists are anxiously trying to solve, and which cannot
be evaded. What are we doing to lessen the growing sense of
inequality between rich and poor, and to fill up the yawning gulf
of discontent? Socialism, and communism, and confiscation of
property are looming large in the distance, and occupying much
attention in the press. Atheism and secularism are spreading fast
in some quarters, and specially in overgrown and neglected
parishes, Now what is the path of duty?

I answer without hesitation, that we want a larger growth of
brotherly love in the land. We want men and women to grasp the
great principle, that we are all of" one blood," and to lay
themselves out to do good. We want the rich to care more for the
poor, and the employer for the employed, and wealthy congregations
for the working-class congregations in the great cities, and the
West End of London to care more for the East and the South. And,
let us remember, it is not merely temporal relief that is wanted.
The Roman emperors tried to keep the proletarians and the lower
classes quiet by the games of the circus and largesses of corn. And
some ignorant modern Britons seem to think that money, cheap food,
good dwellings, and recreation are healing medicines for the evils
of our day in the lowest stratum of society. It is a complete
mistake. What the masses want is more sympathy, more kindness, more
brotherly love, more treatment as if they were really of "one
blood" with ourselves. Give them that., and you will fill up half
the gulf of discontent.

It is a common saying in this day, that the working classes have no
religion, that they are alienated from the Church of England, that
they cannot be brought to church, and that it is hopeless and
useless to try to do them good. I believe nothing of the kind. I
believe the working classes are not one jot more opposed to
religion than the "upper ten thousand," and that they are just as
open to good influences, and even more likely to be saved if they
are approached in the right way. But what they do like is to be
treated as "one blood," and what is wanted is a great increase of
sympathy and personal friendly dealing with them.

I confess that I have immense faith in the power of sympathy and
kindness. I believe the late Judge Talfourd hit the right nail on
the head when he said, in almost his last charge to a Grand Jury at
Stafford Assizes, "Gentlemen, the great want of the age is more
sympathy between classes." I entirely agree with him; I think an
increase of sympathy and fellow-feeling between high and low, rich
and poor, employer and employed, parson and people, is one healing
medicine which the age demands. Sympathy, exhibited in its
perfection, was one secondary cause of the acceptance which
Christ's gospel met with on its first appearance in the heathen
world. Well says Lord Macaulay, "It was before Deity taking a human
form, walking among men, partaking of their infirmities, leaning on
their bosoms, weeping over their graves, slumbering in the manger,
bleeding on the cross, that the prejudices of the synagogue, and
the doubts of the academy, and the fasces of the lictor, and the
swords of thirty legions, were humbled in the dust." And sympathy,
I firmly believe, can do as much in the nineteenth century as it
did in the first. If anything will melt down the cold isolation of
classes in these latter days, and make our social body consist of
solid cubes compacted together, instead of spheres only touching
each other at one point, it will be a large growth of Christlike
sympathy.

Now I assert confidently that the English working man is peculiarly
open to sympathy. The working man may live in a poor dwelling; and
after toiling all day in a coal pit, or cotton mill, or iron
foundry, or dock, or chemical works, he may often look very rough
and dirty. But after all, he is flesh and blood like ourselves.
Beneath his outward roughness he has a heart and a conscience, a
keen sense of justice, and a jealous recollection of his rights as
a man and a Briton. He does not want to be patronized and
flattered, any more than to be trampled on, scolded, or neglected;
but he does like to be dealt with as a brother, in a friendly,
kind, and sympathizing way. He wilt not be driven; he will do
nothing for a cold, hard man, however clever he may be. But give
him a Christian visitor to his home who really understands that it
is the heart and not the coat which makes the man, and that the
guinea's worth is in the gold, and not in the stamp upon it. Give
him a visitor who will not only talk about Christ, but sit down in
his house, and take him by the hand in a Christlike, familiar way.
Give him a visitor, and specially a clergyman, who realizes that in
Christ's holy religion there is no respect of persons, that rich
and poor are "made of one blood," and need one and the same atoning
blood, and that there is only one Saviour, and one Fountain for
sin, and one heaven, both for employers and employed. Give him a
clergyman who can weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them
that rejoice, and feel a tender interest in the cares, and
troubles, and births, and marriages, and deaths of the humblest
dweller in his parish. Give the working man, I say, a clergyman of
that kind, and, as a general rule, the working man will come to his
church, and not be a communist or an infidel. Such a clergyman will
not preach to empty benches.

How little, after all, do most people seem to realize the supreme
importance of brotherly love and the absolute necessity of
imitating that blessed Saviour who "went about doing good" to all,
if we would prove ourselves His disciples l If ever there was a
time when conduct like that of the good Samaritan in the parable
was rare, it is the time in which we live. Selfish indifference to
the wants of others is a painful characteristic of the age. Search
the land in which we live, from the Isle of Wight to
Berwick-on-Tweed, and from the Land's End to the North Foreland,
and name, if you can, a single county or town in which the givers
to good works are not a small minority, and in which philanthropic
and religious agencies are not kept going, only and entirely, by
painful begging and constant importunity. Go where you will, the
report is always the same. Hospitals, missions at home and abroad,
evangelistic and educational agencies, churches, chapels, and
mission halls,- all are incessantly checked and hindered by want of
support. Where are the Samaritans, we may well ask, in this land of
Bibles and Testaments? Where are the Christians who live as if we
are "all of one blood "? Where are the men who love their
neighbours, and will help to provide for dying bodies and souls?
Where are the people always ready and willing to give unasked, and
without asking how much others have given? Millions are annually
spent on deer forests, and moors, and hunting, and yachting, and
racing, and gambling, and balls, and theatres, and dressing, and
pictures, and furniture, and recreation. Little, comparatively,
ridiculously little, is given or done for the cause of Christ. A
miserable guinea subscription too often is the whole sum bestowed
by some Croesus on the bodies and souls of his fellow-men. The very
first principles of giving seem lost and forgotten in many
quarters. People must be bribed and tempted to contribute by
bazaars, as children in badly-managed families are bribed and
tempted to be good by sugar-plums! They must not be expected to
give unless they get something in return! And all this goes on in a
country where people call themselves Christians, and go to church,
and glory in ornate ceremonials, and histrionic rituals, and what
are called "hearty services," and profess to believe the parable of
the Good Samaritan. I fear there will be a sad waking up at the
last day.

Where, after all, to come to the root of the matter, where is that
brotherly love which used to be the distinguishing mark of the
primitive Christians? Where, amidst the din of controversy and
furious strife of parties, where is the fruit of the Holy Spirit
and the primary mark of spiritual regeneration? Where is that
charity, without which we are no better than "sounding brass and
tinkling cymbals"? Where is the charity which is the bond of
perfectness? Where is that love by which our Lord declared all men
should know His disciples, and which St. John said was the
distinction between the children of God and the children of the
devil? Where is it, indeed? Read in the newspapers the frightfully
violent language of opposing politicians. Mark the hideous
bitterness of controversial theologians, both in the press and on
the platform. Observe the fiendish delight with which anonymous
letter-writers endeavour to wound the feelings of opponents, and
then to pour vitriol into the wound. Look at all this ghastly
spectacle which any observing eye may see any day in England. And
then remember that this is the country in which men are reading the
New Testament and professing to follow Christ, and to believe that
they are all of "one blood." Can anything more grossly inconsistent
be conceived? Can anything be imagined more offensive to God?
Truly, it is astonishing that such myriads should be so keen about
Christian profession and external worship, and yet so utterly
careless about the simplest elements of Christian practice. Where
there is no love there is no spiritual life. Without brotherly
love, although baptized and communicants, men are dead in
trespasses and sins.

I shall wind up all I have to say on the point of duty by reminding
my readers of the solemn words which St. Matthew records to have
been spoken by our Lord in the twenty-fifth chapter of his Gospel.
In the great and dreadful day of judgment, when the Son of man
shall sit on the throne of His glory, there are some to whom He
will say, "Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for
the devil and His angels: for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me no
meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave Me no drink: I was a stranger, and
ye took Me not in: naked, and ye clothed Me not; sick, and in
prison, and ye visited Me not. Then shall they also answer Him,
saying, Lord, when saw we Thee an hungered, or athirst, or a
stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister
unto Thee? Then shall He answer them, saying, Verily I say unto
you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did
it not to Me" (Matt. 25:41-46).

I declare I know very few passages of Scripture more solemn and
heart-searching than this. It is not charged against these unhappy
lost souls, that they had committed murder, adultery, or theft, or
that they had not been church-goers or communicants. Oh, no!
nothing of the kind. They had simply done nothing at all. They had
neglected love to others. They had not tried to lessen the misery,
or increase the happiness, of this sin-burdened world. They had
selfishly sat still, done no good, and had no eyes to see, or
hearts to feel, for their brethren the members of Adam's great
family. And so their end is everlasting punishment! If these words
cannot set some people thinking when they look at the state of the
masses in some of our large towns, nothing will.

And now I shall close this paper with three words of friendly
advice, which I commend to the attention of all who read it. They
are words in season for the days in which we live, and I am sure
they are worth remembering.

(a) First and foremost, I charge you never to give up the old
doctrine of the plenary inspiration of the whole Bible. Hold it
fast, and never let it go. Let nothing tempt you to think that any
part of the grand old volume is not inspired, or that any of its
narratives, and especially in Genesis, are not to be believed. Once
take up that ground, and you will find yourself on an inclined
plane. Well will it be if you do not slip down into utter
infidelity! Faith's difficulties no doubt are great; but the
difficulties of scepticism are far greater.

(b) In the next place, I charge you never to give up the old
doctrine of the blood of Christ, the complete satisfaction which
that atoning blood made for sin, and the impossibility of being
saved except by that blood. Let nothing tempt you to believe that
it is enough to look at the example of Christ, or to receive the
sacrament which Christ commanded to be received, and which many
nowadays worship like an idol. When you come to your deathbed, you
will want something more than an example and a sacrament. Take heed
that you are found resting all your weight on Christ's substitution
for you on the cross, and His atoning blood, or it will be better
if you had never been born.

(c) Last but not least, I charge you never to neglect the duty of
brotherly love, and practical, active, sympathetic kindness towards
every one around you, whether high or low, or rich or poor. Try
daily to do some good upon earth, and to leave the world a better
world than it was when you were born. If you are really a child of
God, strive to be like your Father and your great elder Brother in
heaven. For Christ's sake, do not be content to have religion for
yourself alone. Love, charity, kindness, and sympathy are the
truest proofs that we are real members of Christ, genuine children
of God, and rightful heirs of the kingdom of heaven.

Of "one blood" we were all born. In "one blood" we all need to be
washed. To all partakers of Adam's "one blood" we are bound, if we
love life, to be charitable, sympathizing, loving, and kind. The
time is short. We are going, going, and shall soon be gone to a
world where there is no evil to remedy, and no scope for works of
mercy. Then for Christ's sake let us all try to do some good before
we die, and to lessen the sorrows of this sin-burdened world.

6The substance of this paper was preached as a sermon at the Chapel Royal, St. James's, London, on March 2, 1884.